


Big Block of Cheese Day

by raktajinos



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, American Politics, Anal Sex, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Derek-centric, Developing Relationship, Family Feels, M/M, Melissa McCall is a badass, Oral Sex, and also the President of the United States, mild jealousy, past Derek/Kate and Stiles/OFC mentioned, sexual inuendo, shameless stealing from The West Wing, when raised with love and stuff Derek can actually have almost-human emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-02 21:08:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1061667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raktajinos/pseuds/raktajinos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Hale is the Executive Secretary to the President of the United States, Melissa McCall. His life is complicated by his on-again-off-again relationship with her son Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sheafrotherdon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheafrotherdon/gifts).



> Story Notes  
> \- Melissa and Sheriff Stilinski (John) married many years ago when Scott and Stiles were young and they each legally adopted the other son. They also decided to keep Melissa's last name because it would be more 'appealing' and 'memorable' to the general public when she ran for office. (I wasn't able to work those clarifications believably into the story so here they are :P)
> 
> \- I'm not American so any errors in regards to the US legal system is all mine. Blame Aaron Sorkin for not educating me right :P And yes, I blatantly stole story concepts from The West Wing (but its a badass show, you should go watch it)
> 
> \- I used Dylan OBrien's look in _The Internship_ as for how Stiles looks in this AU. [pretties](http://31.media.tumblr.com/3f8bbf169cea67a86e42cea58e67a900/tumblr_mposfdvtlN1qerlooo1_500.png)
> 
> \- if there's enough interest, I'll definitely write a sequel to this. I had too many ideas to cram into one fic :P And let me know if you want the sequel more porny. :P
> 
>  
> 
> Author Notes  
> \- for sheafrotherdon: I hope you enjoy this! I had an absolute blast writing it. I love AUs so I was super excited to see that you were open to them. And i have it on good authority that you enjoyed The West Wing, so hopefully you enjoy the shamelessly-stolen parts :P
> 
> \- a huge special thanks to **motionalocean** for her fast+fabulous beta and putting up with my commas. Also thanks to **dogeared** for the story concept help and to the **tw-holidays mods** for being super flexible for my slow-ass writing. I appreciate it.

Big Block of Cheese Day

 

“Dragonfly has landed,” one of the armed men in suits said quietly into his wrist. Melissa walked into her office and gave the staff a ‘good morning’ nod.

“Can’t we change that name?”

Derek smiled back, walking into the room behind her; he’d never get tired of walking into _this_ room every day; this room with its history and prestige. “You picked it,” he said back in his traditional monotone, enjoying their routine. She complained about her Secret Service codename at least once a week. “I still think I should have gone with ‘honeybadger’ - but you wanted something _elegant_.”

“Don’t get glib with me Hale. I could lock you away with the snap of my fingers” she said sternly, but with a slight curve to her mouth and a twinkle in her eye. 

“Honeybadgers take no shit,” he said under his breath, but not quietly enough for her to miss it and he caught the smirk on her face. 

“What was that?” she asked. 

Derek cleared his throat, “I believe ‘panda’ was the preferred runner up”. She had the decency not to call him on the lie. 

“Well, they are very adorable...so I can see the resemblance.” Melissa added with mock humility.

“Yes Madam President,” he agreed. 

She sighed, her work face falling into place as she took a seat in the large brown leather chair. “What’s on the schedule for today Derek?”

He clicked on his tablet, bringing up her schedule for the day. “You have the morning staff meeting in ten minutes, a photo with the winners of the National Student Essay Contest on Democracy in America, a meeting with the energy department on the new power plant initiative, a meeting with Kali to finalize the details for your China trip next month, and the Canadian ambassador is here for your weekly lunch. Shall we go into your afternoon schedule ma’am?” Derek listed off, scrolling through the calendar. 

Melissa laughed. “No Derek, thanks, I think the morning is quite enough for right now. Oh, my sons will be arriving this afternoon - I’m not sure if Stan had updated you, they were able to get away for the weekend a little earlier than expected.” 

No, Stan had _not_ updated him, something Derek would have to immediately follow up on. Every adjustment, no matter how minor, that could alter the President’s schedule went through him. Stan was the agent in charge of the protection detail for both Scott and Stiles and he was usually pretty prompt with the updates. Just as he was thinking that, a little icon popped up on his tablet with an email from Stan. 

“Derek, if you could co-ordinate with them and John so that they’re all on time for dinner, I’d appreciate it.” 

“Of course Madam President,” he replied, making notes to himself. 

“Oh, and clear my schedule for after seven this evening, I’d like to make it to my own family dinner for once.”

He nodded and made more notes; he’d have to reschedule a meeting with Lydia and Deaton and move around a few other minor things, but it could be done. 

“Cora’s coming in on the flight with the boys right?” she asked.

“I believe so, yes.”

“Oh wonderful. How is Cora doing?”

“Pretty good. She’s enjoying her studies but she keeps getting her nose into trouble,” he said warmly. 

“Ah yes, I do believe I remember Agent Lee mentioning something about _that_ ” she replied. 

“Great. Now she’s got federal agencies watching her,” Derek said, shaking his head in disbelief. He was proud of her and how strong her convictions were, but his sister wouldn’t be happy until she was imprisoned for one issue or another. 

“If you promise not to repeat this to Agent Lee, I happen to know your mom would have been proud of her - well both of you of course, but Talia always has this combatant streak in her, loved to make a loud bang. We’d always get into debates on political issues, even more so when I decided to enter politics. She’d say things like ‘Lees, if you can’t handle my crazy how are you going to handle a televised debate’” she said, doing an uncanny mimic of his mother. 

Derek smiled, he loved hearing stories about his mother, and Melissa had known her since they were children so she was full of stories. They’d lost her seven years ago in a car accident and Derek missed her more than he could express. He was grateful he’d gotten the years with her that he did. In many ways he felt sorry for Cora; for a girl to lose her mother at fifteen just wasn’t right. 

He knew Melissa stepped in where she could, providing a motherly influence over the teenager; there was even a discussion about them formally adopting Cora, but at nineteen Derek had been legally an adult and while Talia’s will named John and Melissa legal guardians, the suddenness of her death threw into sharp relief the outdatedness of it. It was eventually decided that Derek would become her legal guardian. The McCalls had been there for Derek and Cora whenever they needed them, but they respected Derek’s autonomy and didn’t interfere when it came to raising Cora, which he greatly appreciated. 

It was something he wasn’t necessarily happy to do, but he wanted to make his mother proud. And after a few years he discovered he’d wanted to do it; to maybe help Cora not make the mistakes he’d made in his late teens. He’d wasted his time in high school; he got decent grades but he full of too much righteous indignation to take anything seriously. He worked crap jobs and he had no idea what he wanted to do with his life and so he wasted a lot of time and had been a bit of a dick about things. 

That all changed when his mother died and he had to be the responsible one. He was hoping that he could prevent Cora from going down the same path; hoping that she’d be the Hale kid to do the right things. Which had _somewhat_ happened. 

Cora got excellent grades and got into a top rate university (Talia had left them with some money, but not a lot, which Derek put aside to pay for Cora’s schooling). She was passionate, driven and Derek didn’t worry that she wouldn’t find her way in the world. Though in true proof of their being siblings, Cora was also righteously indignant about the world, except she channeled it into activism instead of meaningless violence. 

Melissa continued, bringing Derek out of his memories. “I know she’d be proud that both her kids are so passionate about things...even if Cora’s way of expressing that is by chaining herself to a tree" she said warmly. "You'll both come won't you?"

"Ma'am?" he asked. 

"To dinner. You and Cora are both family and it's so rare we're all in the same place at the same time. Plus, John's making his 'award-winning chilli' so you have to come help us eat it." 

Derek smiled. "We'd love to come." And he meant it, the McCalls were family. It was an odd relationship structure, to feel that strongly for your boss...and then for that boss to be the President of the United States. 

"Wonderful. 7pm. I know Scott and Stiles will be happy to see you." 

A heavy ball of anxiety landed in the pit of his stomach. Stiles. He'd been focused on Cora and thinking about his mother that he'd forgotten to realize what 'family dinner' with the McCalls actually meant.  
Stiles. 

The last time he’d spoken to Stiles was a night he’d remember forever, for reasons both good and bad. It was the night Melissa won the Presidency - everyone on the team was elated, all the years of hard work finally paying off...and then the night fell apart. He’d gone to Stiles’ room to celebrate but ended up having a huge fight; it was a trainwreck to be honest, another rehashing of the same argument they’d been having for weeks, the same problems coming back up until Derek had had enough and put an end to it, walking away and out of Stiles’ life. 

_  
“Why can’t you just let it go Derek!” Stiles yelled from across the room, his arms moving about in angry motions._

_The retort died on his tongue; Stiles knew why he couldn’t let it go, they’d argued about this before. And in a moment of clarity, Derek understood. Stiles knew, but he’d never get it. They’d be stuck like this forever. His shoulders sagged at his revelation and all the fire in him went out. Stiles must have noticed the change because he ran over to Derek, standing close to him and lightly grabbed his lapels._

_“I’m sorry”_

_“Stiles -”_

_“No. No don’t,” he interrupted._

_Derek looked down into Stiles’ eyes, unwept tears beginning to form._

_“Stiles,” he said again, this time more quietly, hands moving to cover Stiles’ own._

_“Derek, no.”_

_He put his hands on either side of his face, rubbing his thumb over Stiles’ bottom lip, “that’s not fair to either of us.” He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his lips then stepped away from him._

_Moving towards the door and turning his back on Stiles was the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. His hand paused on the doorknob, giving himself one more moment to decide if this was the right decision. Without looking back he turned the knob and walked out of the room.  
_

It had been well over six months since they'd seen each other, and at least a year since they'd been in an informal situation together. The last time he’d seen Stiles had been at her first State of the Union address and Derek has been so busy, or could pretend to be busy, that he'd been able to avoid talking to Stiles the whole night. They’d broken up three months earlier and hadn’t seen each other since that night. During the address, he’d been constantly aware of Stiles’ position in the room, and he’d caught several heated stares from Stiles that indicated Stiles felt the same. Actively trying to avoid him that night had been….difficult. It was especially odd considering they usually were so eager to find an empty secluded broom closet during these type of events. _Not_ falling back on that tradition was unsettling. 

And Derek hadn’t seen him since; hadn’t had to talk to him or look at him. He hadn’t had to face the myriad of emotions that Derek had conveniently pushed into the back of his mind. But tonight would change that and he’d be seated across from the man for several hours. It was going to be brutal and Derek was beginning to regret it already.


	2. Chapter 2

The day seemed to go by incredibly fast - naturally because he was dreading that call from the Secret Service to say Stiles and Scott had arrived and would be heading towards the office and he’d be face-to-face with Stiles for the first time in months. And then to top it all off, there was that family dinner which was sure to be super fun!

He wasn’t without distraction though, world politics didn’t stop just because Derek Hale was dreading seeing his ex. His ex who was also his boss’s son. His boss who happened to be the President of the United States. If he was prone to laughing, he’d laugh at how ridiculous his predicament was. 

He couldn’t afford to be distracted, he had a job to do and he loved his job; he loved being able to witness history in the making and to support a woman who was practically his second mother. Plus, he was good at his job; multitasking was in his wheelhouse and his calm demeanour was an asset in that regard as there were a lot of pushy politicians and bureaucrats. Melissa had also pointed out on several occasions how having a large, physically imposing man outside her office was helpful. Cora said he was “intimidating” while Stiles used to tease him about being the office eye candy, put there to flirt with all the women (and men) that came through.

He had to use both those ‘skills’ today, intimidating a particularly brash Senator from bulldozing his way into the office and he had to charm Delia, a delegate working in the House for an early peek at the session’s notes. He may have accidentally gotten himself into going on a date at some point. 

Derek had been working for Melissa for well over eight years now. He’d started back when she was still the Governor of California, Talia had just died and he needed a good job to help support Cora. Melissa had taken a chance on him, putting aside his less than stellar performance history and attitude problems and given him a job as an aid in her office. He knew it was out of love for his mother that she gave him the opportunity, but he had been thankful and vowed to work hard for her, to prove himself. He spent nearly two years working there, moving around to various jobs within the Governor’s office until he earned a promotion to Assistant Secretary for the Chief of Staff. For the first time in his life, he’d been proud of himself; he _earned_ that promotion, it hadn’t been given to him out of pity or default. He earned it all on his own. It was also during that promotion that he first started seeing Stiles. It started off as casual, an off-and-on type thing that worked for both of them. But then it evolved into something else, something deeper.

His promotion to Executive Secretary for the Governor was a mix of hard work and luck. Melissa’s initial secretary had to resign abruptly and left the office in a bit of a lurch; Derek had volunteered to temp the position until a suitable replacement could be found. It was a suggestion that was embraced well enough; he’d proven he could be trusted and he knew most of the habits of the office already so there wasn’t a huge learning curve. He’d also been doing well as an assistant secretary and was eager to take on more responsibility. Some would say it was boring, but he liked micromanaging schedules. 

And then he just didn’t leave. Not that they didn’t interview candidates, they did, Derek helped schedule them. It just kept getting pushed down the priority list because it wasn’t immediately noticeable that something was missing; Derek had been fulfilling all the duties so more pressing issues got dealt with first. And then Melissa decided to run for President and the office became a flurry of activity, everything rushing, and the position was offered to him officially and he accepted. He served as her executive secretary in the Governor’s office for the last year of her term there and then continued on in the position for the year and a half they’ve been in the White House. 

He used the stability to put himself through college, earning his BA in political science through online coursework and correspondence. It took a bit longer than normal, but he finished it. And now he was earning his Master’s degree the same way - though he was sure that the letter of reference from the President-elect had helped smooth things along quite a bit. 

Derek tried to focus on the mountain of tasks and paperwork he had to deal with, but his mind kept getting drawn elsewhere. In addition he had this gnawing cold feeling in his stomach that only intensified when he focused on what was coming. He was well area of how ridiculous it was - he worked next to the most intimidating office on the planet, met with people who had so much power and authority they could easily dispose of his body if they saw fit, and none of that got him half as nervous as the impending face-to-face with one young man.

The call finally came in around 1pm and Derek thought for sure he might throw up. He forced himself to stop pacing and to stop adjusting his suit; he looked fine, well he looked tired, but he always looked that way these days, and there was nothing he could do about it now. He got up and out of his chair half a dozen times before settling for standing next to the filing cabinet, papers in hand; he wanted to look busy and relaxed when Stiles came in. 

He kept staring at the clock, the minutes going by excruciatingly slowly. How long did it take to walk from the helipad to the office? Then he heard it; the voice he hadn’t heard in a year, the voice that haunted his dreams. 

Stiles, ever the social butterfly, was greeting various staff members as he made his way down the hall towards the Oval. Hearing his genuine laughter as Marg made one of her crude jokes, a smile unwittingly crept onto Derek’s face. It was one of the things he loved most about Stiles - how open and friendly he was with everyone, always well-liked, he had this ease about him that people connected too. It was a great asset when Melissa was campaigning, Stiles’ gift for gab coming in handy on the various talk shows he went on. It was such a stark contrast to his own personality; reserved and taciturn, he always had trouble connecting with people or letting down his guard long enough to let anyone in. Stiles never had that problem and he once confessed that it was one of the things that drew him to Derek in the first place - wanting to get underneath that harsh exterior. 

He got in alright; after months of casual innuendos and wildly inappropriate behaviour for the office, he got in. The problem was, he never left. Once someone got through Derek’s walls, it was nearly impossible for Derek to push them back out. It had been well over a year and Derek wasn’t any closer to being over him than he was that day he walked out. 

Derek watched seemingly in slow motion as Stiles walked into the office; the casual breadth of his steps, the nicely shined shoes and the intensity of his presence. A hurricane of emotion swirled inside Derek; love, anger, regret, denial, lust, all fighting for dominance. His pulse raced and he felt lightheaded. It was too much. All the work he’d done in the past year, gone. In that moment, standing this close to him, Derek knew he was still in love. 

“Hey,” Stiles said awkwardly, barely looking Derek in the eye. 

“Hey,” Derek said back, trying to look nonchalant but knowing he was failing desperately. He was usually stoic and reserved, but whenever he had “complicated” emotions as Stiles had once diagnosed, he tended to get “constipation face” - again, Stiles’ term. 

Derek tried to casually body scope Stiles without making it look like he was checking him out (a side benefit of his job; being able to take in every physical detail about a person without them knowing. He’d taken a few lessons from Agent Harris just in case). 

Fuck he looked good. 

He was dressed casually, nicely, but relaxed in black slacks, white dress shirt and a blue cardigan; very collegiate. He looked pretty much the same as Derek remembered him, except now he had glasses and slightly longer hair. The glasses suited him, suited him damn well: the thick black frames made him look sleek, mature and outrageously sexy. Derek knew he’d be saving that image for later that night when he was alone. The longer hair was good too; it was now slightly foppish but styled, Stiles had clearly learned how to use hair gel. Derek used to tease him about how he should grow his hair out a bit so he’d have something to grab onto (he tried not to read into the slight change). Looking at him now, Derek wanted nothing more than to push his hands through that carefully done hair and mess it up; to grab a handful while Stiles rode him, to pull his head to the side and mark his neck….

Derek clenched his fists at his sides trying to get some control over himself. As tempting as it would be to throw Stiles down on his desk and have his way with him, it would be wrong on so many levels, not in the least of which was Stiles’ mom i.e.: the President being in the room next door. A sobering thought. Though Derek wasn’t sure which one was scarier: Melissa catching him debauching her son or getting caught having sex near the Oval, which certainly had to be a federal offence of some kind. 

Derek caught Stiles giving him the once over in return; he figured he looked pretty much the same as last time, no dramatic changes in style. He needed to break the silence, get his mind focused on other things. 

“How’s school?” he asked. Good. A nice, normal question. 

“It’s good. Almost done so that’s cool,” Stiles answered a bit awkwardly, hands fidgeting in his pockets, his eyes glancing up to meet Derek’s. 

It was suddenly all too much; he was too close. Derek started to panic. He forced himself to calm down, to realize that Stiles was practically on the other side of the room, putting as much physical space between them as possible while still staying in the same room. 

“How’s um...all this?” he asked Derek, waving in the general direction of the Oval. 

Derek took several deep breaths and focused his attention. “Oh it’s okay. Fate of the world and all that.” He never used humour, he just wasn’t comfortable with it, sarcasm yes, but straight up humour was more Stiles’ department. But he tried and was rewarded with a smile from Stiles. 

“Thats good,” he said quietly. 

An awkward silence fell, both of them just staring at each other, the clocks on the wall the only noise. Stiles took a few steps towards the desk, close enough for him to reach out his hand and casually graze the polished wood.

His eyes focused on Derek’s and he couldn’t look away.  
“Derek -” he started, his voice as serious as his gaze. Derek moved a step towards Stiles, his body acting of its own volition. 

“Derek!!” Scott called out jovially, bouncing into the room. Derek jumped slightly and Stiles moved back from the desk, as if the spell was broken, preventing Stiles from saying whatever it was he was going to say. Scott walked straight up to Derek and wrapped him in a bear hug. 

“Been forever! How are you!?” he inquired, a little too high on energy for Derek’s taste. 

“I’m good,” he said, “but how are you? You seem a little….excited.”

Scott just smiled a cat-in-the-cream smile, his eyes wide. 

“He brought home a girl,” Stiles chimed in, a wink in his eye. Scott glared at his step-brother and Stiles gave him a little push in return. 

“A girl. Thats new,” Derek said in his usual deadpan but tossed a quick teasing smile to Stiles who, to Derek’s relief, returned the gesture. Scott’s arrival provided the excuse they needed to act normal. 

“Does your mother know?”

Scott went shifty and cast his gaze downwards. “No, not exactly”. 

Derek rubbed his hands over his face. “Oh dear.” 

“That was pretty much my response too. He hasn’t even told Dad yet either,” said Stiles. 

“She’s having a family dinner tonight,” 

“Perfect! Mom and Dad can meet her then.” Scott exclaimed. 

Derek rolled his eyes. Dinner certainly got a lot more interesting, though he felt bad for the poor girl. “Well you’d better tell your mom _before_ dinner,” he added. 

“I’m here to tell her now” Scott said, having enough sense to show some shame. 

“Ha! And I’m sure four hours to adjust to the news is ample. What’s her name? Does she even have any credentials?” he asked, his mind a whirl with all the work he’d have to push through quick if Scott hadn’t arranged anything. You didn’t just bring someone home for dinner when home was the White House. There were protocols and security checks. How did he even get her on the plane?

A wistful look came over Scott’s face, “Allison. Her name is Allison.” He all but breathed out her name, his voice full of reverence.

“He gets like this whenever he thinks about her, or talks about her, or is near her. It’s pretty much a constant Scott expression now. Kinda gross,” Stiles said. 

“Well I can’t help it, we’re in love,” Scott said in the most ridiculous voice; Stiles made gag motions next to him. Scott looked insulted. “If you’re ever in love Stiles you’ll know what I mean.” Derek did not miss the way Stiles’ eyes snapped up to meet his own. The look only lasted a moment, but it was there. 

“Did you get her credentials?” Derek asked, repeating his earlier question. 

“Um….no?” Scott confessed. “I was kinda hoping you could do that for me.” He gave Derek his best puppy dog face. Derek just rolled his eyes and reached for his tablet. “Oh thank you thank you!” Scott said appreciatively. 

A silence descended once again while Derek made the appropriate inquiries, all the while trying to stop himself from glancing up at Stiles every few seconds. The air wasn’t as thick now as it was, Scott had a dampening effect that had come in handy on more than one occasion. A memory flashed into Derek’s mind of one such instance and he smiled. 

“You coming to dinner tonight?” Stiles asked suddenly. Derek looked up and studied Stiles’ face, trying to determine if he was angry or if he didn’t want him there….or if he was hopeful. He chastised himself for that line of thinking; he was the one who broke things off, he’d told Stiles to move on. He had no right, now to hope he hadn’t….like himself. He met the bright green gaze of Stiles’s eyes, not breaking contact, “Yes. If that’s okay?” he added. It didn’t really matter if Stiles wanted him there or not, Melissa had invited him and his absence would be noted. But that’s not really what they were talking about and they both knew it. 

“Ya, that’s okay,” Stiles replied, his eyes heated but the rest of his demeanour giving nothing away. 

“Of course it’s okay. What a ridiculous question. Cora’s coming too, right? She was on the plane,” Scott said, rather obliviously. 

They’d deliberately kept their relationship on the downlow during the years. They weren’t a secret, but they’d both agreed it was better for the campaign if they weren’t public. Stiles’ history of dating both men and women since high-school had become a sideline issue during Melissa’s campaign; having the candidate’s son involved with the candidate’s secretary would go over even worse in the press. 

There was also the age issue - Stiles had been 17 when they’d first started seeing each other, Derek had been 22. It wasn’t illegal, but it was enough of an age gap to raise some eyebrows. There had been….incidents before Stiles was of age, between the two of them, before they officially started seeing each other. Mainly curiosity, exploration and teenage hormones were to blame for those. But they were incidents that _would_ be unearthed if their relationship was public during the campaign, and that would have reflected poorly upon Melissa. And neither of them wanted that. 

Even though they’d been...private, they hadn’t been particularly discrete, especially when it was just around family. Derek was shocked Scott didn’t know, that he hadn’t noticed anything during the years or that Stiles hadn’t told him since. Derek had long suspected John knew of their relationship; one of the benefits of being the partner not in the limelight is that you get the chance to notice small details that would otherwise be pushed aside for the larger picture. He used to be a detective, so it was his job to notice the details. He’d never said anything implicit to Derek, but sometimes he’d get this look from him whenever the subject of Stiles came up in conversation. 

Whether or not Melissa knew was up in the air; John may have told her or her may have kept his suspicions from her to make her job easier. Things could get really awkward at the office if Melissa knew her secretary, whom she worked with every day, was secretly doing naughty things to her son on a nightly basis. Either way, aside from a few secret service agents who for _sure_ knew, their relationship had been private. 

Still, sometimes it was bizarre how obtuse Scott could be, he wasn’t a stupid guy. “Cora is coming, yes,” Derek answered. 

“Oh, she has some stories to tell you! Make her tell you about Jeremy, cause you won’t get that story out of Stiles. But man, it’s a good one,” Scott said. 

Derek flicked his eyes over to Stiles, a pang of jealousy surging through him. _Jeremy_. A look of incredible discomfort was on Stiles’ face and he tossed his brother a look of disgust. He clearly didn’t want to talk about it and Derek could presume that _he_ was the last person Stiles would want to talk about other lovers with. 

He knew Stiles had dated other people and while he did his best to avoid gossip news, there was a part of his job that required him to be somewhat in the know on these issues. He was also clearly some sort of masochist who liked to punish himself by looking up tabloid photos of Stiles and whatever tramp he’d hooked up with that week. Derek had problems, but that wasn’t news. 

Apparently unable to wait for Cora to tell Derek the story, Scott dove right in. “Jeremy was this guy Stiles was _involved_ with. I feel like I shouldn’t say ‘fuck buddies’ this close to the Oval, but thats what they were….”

“She almost done?” Stiles asked, interrupting Scott, and Derek was grateful he did. He didn’t want to hear more about Jeremy or any of Stiles’s exploits. He checked his watch.  
“She should be done soon. The Canadian ambassador is here and, well they can easily keep on chatting the day away. Great for international diplomacy; bad for keeping a schedule. I’ll go get her if they’re not done in five.”

“Always keeping things tight and on time….as usual,” Stiles said and Derek caught the wry smirk on his face, clearly enjoying his double meaning. Flirting, outside the Oval and with Scott standing next to him - he’d certainly grown bold in the past year. Derek wasn’t sure if he was flattered or annoyed, especially since the comment came just seconds after hearing about _Jeremy_. Confused. Confused is what he felt. 

Derek pursed his lips and gave a sullen, “yes,” reluctant to give Stiles the satisfaction of seeing him squirm. He didn’t know where they stood. 

“--- tell David for me of course” Melissa said, opening the door and escorting the ambassador out. 

“Oh look, my boys are here. Scott, Stiles, this is Ambassador Lisbon; Marie, these are my sons,” Melissa said, introducing them. Scott and Stiles were perfectly pleasant and charming, the result of years of in-the-field training. Derek left them with their mother a few moments later, walking the Ambassador out and wishing her goodbye.

\---------

“Cora?” he called out into his small apartment, throwing his keys down into the little bowl by the door. 

“In the kitchen!” she hollered back. Derek made his way towards her; it was a small apartment so it wasn’t that far to go, but he liked it. Two bedrooms, one for himself and another for Cora whenever she was in town, a small kitchen and a small living room area. It was close to work, which was really the important thing, not whether he had a large enough dining room for entertaining; he never had time to entertain. He didn’t have a car (never needed one) and the odd hours he worked made him learn to be non-reliant on public transit. So he’d deliberately hunted for a place within walking distance of work, even if he paid a little too much for it. 

“Derek!” she said, launching herself at him and wrapping in him in his second bear hug of the day. He made a ‘oomph’ noise but squeezed her back; he’d missed her. They Skyped pretty frequently but it wasn’t the same as seeing her in person. 

“You’re going to eat me out of house and home,” he said, releasing her and noticing what had to be the entire contents of his kitchen spread out on the counter. 

Cora snorted. “What house - there’s like no food here. Leftovers and a box of oatmeal. And I totally already ate your Chinese food.”

Derek just shrugged and grabbed a piece of pizza from the cold open box. He gave it a sniff, not sure how old it was. 

“It’s okay,” Cora told him. “I already ate some.” 

“With that iron stomach I doubt botulism could survive in there,” he teased, but mowed down on the pizza anyways. “Don’t eat too much, we’ve been invited to the McCalls for family dinner.”

“Oooo. Interesting,” she said, hopping up to sit on the counter, cracking open a soda and shoving another slice of pizza in her mouth. 

“Nervous?”

“Of what?” he asked. 

Cora smirked. “Of Stiles. It’s been like forever since you’ve seen him, let alone talked to him. And don’t even try to deny it,” she added when he went to do just that. 

“How long have you known?” he asked, resigned. 

“Um, like forever,” she said, a pleased, satisfied look on her face. “Not all of us are as obtuse as Scott.” 

Derek smiled and gave a nod to that. He really shouldn’t be surprised Cora knew. 

“Well, to be honest, I only suspected for a while. You guys were surprisingly hushhush about it all. But ya, looks between you and finding Stiles in your room far too often…a gal can put two-and-two together.” 

Unless you’re Scott, he thought silently to himself. 

“And I kinda like live with Stiles now, so...” she trailed off. 

“He talks about me?” Derek asked, trying not to sound hopeful. He failed. 

“Ya, sometimes. He never said what happened between you guys to end it. But I know he misses you. And he regrets stuff,” she said slowly, as if trying not give away things told in confidence. Derek fell quiet. 

“I know you miss him too,” she added. “You haven’t dated anyone since - and don’t give me that ‘its my job excuse’, cause you’d find time if you wanted to.”

“You’re too wise, y’know that. I’m supposed to be the Big Sibling.”

Cora preened. “Well sometimes you have your head too far up your own ass to notice anything.”

He gave her a sarcastic smile and threw a hardened chicken-ball at her. 

“I dunno. It’s not easy,” he finally said in response. Cora shrugged and jumped off the counter. “Nope. Never is. And I’m not going to tell you what to do, so don’t even ask.”

“But you want to. You like to meddle. You love telling me what to do,” he whined back. 

“True. But in this instance, I’m going to wait and let you two figure this out,” she said confidently. Derek just stared at her. “....or until you make such a mess of things it becomes absolutely necessary for me to get involved.” 

“Oh, thanks,” he said sarcastically. “Good to see I inspire such hope in my own sister.” 

He jumped off the counter and put the remaining food back in the fridge. “Come on, we’ve got to get ready for dinner.”

“And we’ve got to get you into some new clothes. Have you worn that suit for four days straight or something? It looks awful?” she said. 

“Har har. Only two”.


	3. Chapter 3

Derek leaned against the wall of the stairwell. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the silence, a moment of solitude. He always enjoyed the White House at this time of night; the time when even the most diligent of workers had gone home to catch a few precious hours of sleep; where the only people left in the building were the agents on night duty.

He let out a long sigh and tried to will the stress from his body, relaxing against the cool stonework of the wall. What was already an incredibly long day and turned into an even longer one. The dinner had ended early when Melissa had been called away to deal with a crisis involving an oil tanker going silent off the Eastern seaboard, which meant Derek had to go too. They’d only finished up moments ago, way into the wee hours of the morning. 

Dinner hadn’t been a complete disaster and while Cora assured him he’d be fine, it was nice to have it and over with. He mostly felt bad for Allison, the girl Scott had brought home. To be launched head-first into a family dinner with the McCalls without any prior introductions...Derek’s estimation of the woman was quite high based on how she’d handled the entire night. 

He knew now that she’d had some practice in the realm of politics. An agent had promptly handed him a dossier on Allison and her entire family within an hour of them learning she was joining them for dinner. He knew she was French and her father was a member of the French delegation to the United Nations, who had done a significant amount of work on nuclear disarmament. It didn’t take Derek long to research that Melissa had met the man - Chris Argent - on a few occasions, although he’d never been to the White House. Something that was going to change quite soon. 

Derek had liked her so far; she didn’t get bowled over by Melissa (neither the mother nor the President) and she had a fire in her that Derek could respect. And Scott was head-over-heels in love with the girl, so they’d better like her, because Derek was pretty sure if there weren’t any major skeletons in her closet, Scott would probably marry the woman. 

He finally managed to push himself off the wall and walk into the kitchen, standing for a while with the giant doors to the industrial fridge open, staring blankly into its contents, trying to make a decision. This fridge always had good food. 

He was startled by a quiet ‘hey’ coming from behind him. He whipped around to see Stiles standing there, leaning on the prep counter. Derek glanced at his watch; nearly four in the morning. 

“You forget, I know you,” Stiles said, answering Derek’s unasked question. “All those late nights on the campaign trail, you always needed some sort of snack or….pick me up when it was barely dawn.” 

He caught the little wisp of a smirk at the corner of Stiles’ mouth; he was clearly thinking of a specific type of ‘pick-me-up’ they’d engaged in. Derek smiled, remembering the way he’d rouse Stiles out of sleep, eager to burn off some exhaustion before having to return to work. 

“Ahh, so you do remember,” Stiles said, pleased. 

“Kinda hard to forget…good snacks,” he mumbled back, trying not to let the pleasantness of the memories overwhelm him. He’d have to tread lightly; it was the first time they’d been alone together in months and based on his reactions today, Derek couldn’t be trusted not to take advantage of the privacy the kitchen provided. An awkward look passed between them - hell everything about them now was awkward. He turned back to the fridge. 

“Want something?” he asked. 

Stiles peaked his head up in interest, craning his neck to look in without moving from his spot on the other side of the counter. “Anything good?”

“Rice pudding? There’s some jello too.”

“What colour?”

“Blue.”

“Um, the rice pudding then. Seriously, blue jello - what the heck, White House cooking staff,” Stiles mock complained. 

Derek slid the ramekin of pudding across the counter with a spoon and put a plate of fries and a burger in the microwave for himself; the hum of the machine filled the silence. 

“So when Mom came back to the Residence just now I - well, I guessed I might find you here,” Stiles said. Derek nodded, not sure what to say. 

“Do you normally walk around this house in your pajamas?” Derek asked, a slight edge to his voice. 

“What! I look perfectly fine. I’m covered up,”

Derek gave him one of his deadpan ‘are you serious’ looks; he had on red slippers and a red night coat - both of which were part of the President’s Christmas catalogue - on top of Star Wars pants and shirt. He looked ridiculous; like Santa Claus at a nerd convention. 

“I look damn fine and you know it.” 

Derek didn’t reply, instead opting to get his food out of the now beeping microwave. “Ha. I knew it,” Stiles replied defiantly, taking Derek’s silence as agreement. “Besides, you’re the one that looks ridiculous in that….custom...tailored...suit.” 

Derek just gave him a look; that comeback was weak, even by Stiles’ standards. He sat down on the stool across from Stiles, reached up and undid his already loosened tie and threw the piece of blue fabric at Stiles. 

“Ooo, going to tie me up Derek?” he whispered, weaving the material through his fingers. “New kink?” 

“You and I both know that one isn’t new,” Derek said back, not looking up from his meal. He was getting too comfortable, it was too easy to fall back into a pattern with Stiles. It was why they’d been so great together, why they lasted so long. 

“No, I don’t suppose it is,” Stiles finished. 

A comfortable but loaded silence fell between them. Derek eating his meal and Stiles his pudding, but also eating a significant number of Derek’s fries...which he then proceeded to dip into his pudding. 

“That’s gross.”

Stiles just shrugged. “You should try it,” dipping a fry and holding it out for Derek to eat. He knew he shouldn’t, but his body acted before his mind could catch up; Derek leant over and bit the fry held out in Stiles’ fingers. 

“Yup, gross.” 

“To each their own,” Stiles shrugged. “So -”

“This Allison. She a keeper?” Derek interrupted, trying to keep the conversation from going where Stiles was trying to lead it. He knew it was inevitable, that they’d have to have _that_ conversation, but he didn’t feel ready for it. 

Stiles took the offering. “She’s cool. I like her quite a bit. Her and Cora are like BFFs, always over at my place gossiping in her room or planning a coup, whatever it is Cora’s into that week. Save the whales or the East-African Mongoose or planning a petition for another season of Firefly - that last one I totally support by the way. But they really love each other - Scott and Allison, not Allison and Cora. Well I’m sure they do...but it in a different way. Or maybe not; maybe they have a poly thing going on or ….” Stiles rambled off into silence. Derek just shook his head, but secretly he missed this; his constant talking, his crazy imagination, his flair for the dramatic. 

“I saw him looking at rings on the internet the other day,” Stiles said, conspiratorially. 

“Really?” 

“Mhmm. But I think he’s going to ask Mom for Gran’s ring. Allison’s family is all traditional and sentimental like that; they really value family history.” 

“Her dad works for the UN. I’ve set up a lunch for him and your parents,” Derek said, having just set that lunch up this afternoon. 

“He’s….intimidating. Kinda hot though, in that older man sort of way.” 

Derek laughed. “Well you do tend to prefer older men.”

Stiles grinned, “I know. Even when it wasn’t really legal.”

“Oh don’t remind me of my pervy history. I prefer to think of it as a ‘grey-zone’ and not straight up criminal,” Derek said, rolling his eyes. They’d first started messing around when Stiles was 16 and he had been almost 20; in some states it was pushing the legal limits. 

“But it’s not like I gave you much of a choice,” Stiles said and he tentatively reached out a hand to touch Derek’s hand on the counter. Derek didn’t reject the gesture, instead moving his thumb in a small circle on the top of Stiles’ hand. “No, no you didn’t”. They weren’t holding hands, but it was close, the gesture was definitely intimate. Too intimate. 

“How have you been?” Stiles asked quietly, more implied behind the words than what was said. 

Derek didn’t know what to tell him. The truth? That he was a mess, that he was still painfully in love with him and thought about him everyday. That he wished he regretted his decision to leave, because straight up regret would make things easier than dealing with regret over having made the right decision and all that that implied. He was constantly glad that his job took up a majority of his life so he didn’t have the time to wallow or stew on the issues. Though it served as a double edged sword because he was so busy he didn’t have time to process or move on. 

“I’ve been okay,” he answered noncommittally. It wasn’t a lie _per se_ , but it wasn’t the truth. 

“Derek -” Stiles hedged. 

Derek pushed his fingers through Stiles’s own, giving a light squeeze. “I know we need to talk, Stiles, but I can’t do it right now. I’ve been up for 20 hours and I have to be back at work in two hours. I don’t even know what meal this is,” he said, indicating to his empty plate. “There’s things to say and I’d like to be mostly conscious. Is that okay?” 

Stiles pulled their clasped hands to his mouth and put a light kiss on Derek’s fingers. “Ya, that’s okay. I’m going to hold you to that though.” He released Derek’s hand from his own and Derek instantly missed the physical contact. 

“What about tomorrow….er, today, I guess” Stiles asked. 

Derek took a moment to run through the mental calendar in his head. He let out a groan. “Today is a big day. We have that stupid Open Doors thing.”

Excitement sparked in Stiles’s eyes. “Oh! It’s Big Block of Cheese Day!”

“We’re not supposed to call it that,”

“Okay, Throw Open Our Office Doors to People Who Want to Discuss Things That We Could Care Less About Day. That’s so much easier to say.”

“....fine. Big Block of Cheese Day,” Derek conceded. Its what they all called it around the office anyways. Named that after President Jackson brought a giant wheel of cheese into the front lobby of the White House to feed anyone who needed it. Presidents have since honoured the day as a way to hear the concerns of groups that wouldn’t necessarily get the chance to talk to someone at this level. 

“I’m participating, by the way,” Stiles confessed eagerly. 

Derek was surprised. “Really? What have you been assigned?”

“No idea. Too bad I don’t have someone on the inside who could check for me,” he said slyly. 

“That would be an abuse of power.”

“I assure you, you’d be very well compensated.”

“I bet.” Derek rolled his eyes. “Why are you doing it?”

“I mentioned to Mom I was interested in getting a better understanding of how the day-to-day running of a country happened and she suggested I sit in on the meetings tomorrow,” Stiles explained. “Okay okay, its a bonus assignment for my Constitutional Law class” he confessed at Derek’s ‘oh really’ look. 

“That makes more sense,” Derek said. Stiles had never been super interested in politics or world events; it was one of the major reasons they broke up. 

The connection wasn’t lost on Stiles. “I have changed though Derek. I added another minor,” he said quietly, drawing little circles on the table with his fingers. Derek’s eyes were drawn to them. “Contemporary Political Economy, which is not as boring as it sounds. I don’t mind it. Actually it’s kinda interesting. And people in that class seem to value my opinion, which is weird, but I get it. And like, I dunno, I kinda feel like the Press Secretary- like I’m actively representing Mom in that class.” Stiles rambled on, as he was want to do frequently. 

Derek reached over to grab his tablet out of his side bag, flicking it on and scrolling to tomorrow’s assigned schedule. He gave a small snort-laugh when he read what session Stiles had been assigned to. 

“Is that tomorrow’s thing? You know what I have to sit in on don’t you. Come on let me see.” he begged, reaching for the tablet. Derek pulled it out of his arms reach. “Nope. It’ll be a little present for you tomorrow.” 

It was like something out of a cheesy romcom; they were playfully struggling for the tablet, Derek using his muscular arms to keep it away from him and Stiles being sly trying to reach around, when they stopped and realized the position they were in. Pressed up against each other, faces near enough that Derek could feel Stiles’ breath on his neck. All he had to do was lean in ever so slightly...

His body instantly both relaxed and became heightened when his lips met Stiles’. Relaxed in the comfort of something familiar, the way his lips felt like home. And heightened because this was exactly the kind of thing he told himself not to do, not to get involved. His body was also heightened by the fact that Stiles’ hands were currently groping him through his pants. 

Stiles was intoxicating, Derek couldn’t get enough. It was like every frustration he’d had over the past year of not being able to touch him or hold him or be with him finally came to a head; he pushed Stiles roughly up against the fridge, grinding his lower body into him, feeling his hardness press against his own. He was rewarded with an encouraging moan from Stiles. He finally had to break the kiss for air, gulping some in as he wasted no time moving his mouth to Stiles’ neck, suckling some of the soft skin into his mouth and biting down slightly. 

Stiles moved one hand into Derek’s hair, gripping his head, encouraging him further. “God, I’ve missed you,” he breathed, the other hand pulling Derek’s shirt out of his pants, searching for skin underneath. 

The click of a coffee machine on the counter next to them roused Derek, reminding him of where they were. He pulled away from Stiles slightly, their bodies still touching. “Stiles,” he whispered, “the kitchen staff will be in soon.”

“Oh. OH!” he added in realization. 

They moved away from each other and straightened their clothes. 

“Sorry,” Derek said, feeling slightly ashamed of his behaviour. 

Stiles just waved his hand. “Good to see you still feel it,” he said with a joking tone, but Derek could sense the hurt underneath it and he immediately felt guilty. He never wanted Stiles to think he didn’t desire him anymore; he didn’t break up with him because of that. He could never find Stiles unattractive; he was always the sexiest thing in every room. 

“ _That_ was never our problem”, he replied. He looked over and saw how uncomfortable Stiles still looked, he moved to stand in front of him. “We’ll talk - later today hopefully?”

Stiles just nodded and Derek put his hands lightly on either side of his head, tilted it up and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “Promise.” Stiles nodded again, but this time more relaxed. 

“I need to get a shower, a nap, a cup of coffee and a new shirt. And not necessarily in that order,” Derek said

“Important day today. Gotta look fresh for Big Block of Cheese Day!” Stiles added, watching his with wary but hopeful eyes as they made their way out of the two opposite doors of the kitchen.


	4. Chapter 4

Big Block of Cheese Day was a resounding success…if by success you mean everyone felt their time had been wasted and nothing got accomplished. The side bonus was that the day ended on time and Derek was looking forward to getting a full-precious-glorious nine hours of sleep that night. He just had to do one last task for Melissa.

Having taken advantage of the light day, and the fact that the oil tanker from the night before was back on track and not at risk of destroying an ecosystem, John had asked Derek to clear Melissa’s schedule for the night as he was going to treat her to a relaxing and romantic night in. He’d been only too happy to oblige and had scheduled ‘funkytown’ into her evening; funkytown was her and John’s secret codeword they didn’t think Derek knew. 

He walked down the quiet corridors of the Residence, package in hand. Melissa had asked him to drop off a rather significant amount of paperwork to Stiles before he headed home; a task that made Derek think Melissa knew more than she let on about his relationship with her son. Surely an aid could have done this. He didn’t know what the papers regarded and he didn’t ask. He’d also promised Stiles that morning that they’d talk today, so delivering the paperwork was a convenient excuse for him to be in the Residence. The light day also meant he was able to sneak in an afternoon nap, so he was feeling much more refreshed than he did that morning. 

He took a moment to collect himself, pausing outside the door to Stiles’ rooms. The whole day he’d replayed that morning’s activities over and over in his head. He should feel more guilt and regret about it, but instead he felt excited. And he hated himself for it. The same problems were still there between them, Stiles’ lack of maturity and his inability to compromise. Going down this path with Stiles again, even for one night, was a horrible idea. Regardless, he knocked on Stiles’ door. 

He didn’t have to wait long until it opened, Stiles standing there in sweatpants and a t-shirt, hair disheveled; all in all looking sexy as all hell. Stiles’ eyes went from Derek to the package in his hands. 

“Demoted to errand boy?”

“Your mother asked me.”

“Do you do everything my mother asks?”

“Yes. Usually. She’s the President. Not the best person to say no to.” 

“I must live on the edge cause I do it all the time.” Stiles teased. “Are you just going to stand there or come in?” he said, accepting the package and wandering back into the room, leaving the door wide open. 

Making what was probably going to be the first of many bad choices for the evening, Derek decided to go in, shutting the door behind him. The private rooms in the residence were split up to provide a sense of functionality to them; the first room was a sitting room/office area with an adjacent four-piece bathroom, which was then also connected to the large bedroom off the side. 

“Have a seat,” Stiles said, attention focused on the documents Derek had delivered. So he sat down on the comfortable chaise and looked around the room. Stiles had made use of the sitting room area as a sort of workspace, utilizing both the large desks and the coffee table for school work; papers, pens and a laptop were scattered haphazardly around the room. “I’d apologize for the mess….but seriously, did you expect anything different,” he said. 

Derek’s attention focused on the coffee table in front of him where Stiles had left open a working draft of what appeared to be his thesis. A thesis on werewolves. He was majoring in Folklore and Eastern-European languages (the latter something he was always downplaying, his fluency in three languages), so the werewolves were a natural subject for him. 

Stiles flopped down into the chair across from him.

“Werewolves eh,” Derek teased.

“They’re super cool. Shut up. I’m almost done it anyways. I’m here indefinitely while I finish it; undergrad thesis, extra credit, and all that jazz. It technically should have been done for July….but I’m a little behind ‘cause I wasted some time there...as you will remember,” he explained. 

Derek remembered; he remembered Stiles’ refusal to take school seriously and his constant lack of confidence in his own skills. That combined with the apathy were all things that drove Derek to end it. 

“So they gave you an extended term?”

“Ya. It needs to be done by February, then I’ll be done my degree. Then I need to decide what I want to do after that.”

“Any ideas?”

“I dunno. Was thinking grad school maybe.”

Derek nodded. He was pleased Stiles was thinking about his future now and considering further education; he was so intelligent he didn’t know his own abilities and Derek hated to see them wasted. 

“Have you been doing any more writing?” he asked.

“You mean aside from the thesis?”

“You know what I mean.” It was something few people knew about Stiles, but he was a gifted writer and had thought about becoming a journalist or a novelist.

“How was _your_ day?” Stiles asked, a smile on his face. He was deliberately shifting the topic away from his writing, another thing he always used to do. 

“Fine. Yours?” Derek replied. 

“Oh mine! You want to know about my day,” he said dramatically, getting up out of his chair and walking towards Derek. “My Big Block of Cheese Day - sounds like a good title to a novel eh, there we go, talking about my writing.” He stood in front of Derek now, a wicked look on his face, licking his lips. He grabbed Derek’s tie and pulled it roughly, causing Derek to hitch forward just a bit, a rush of desire running through him. They both had a leaning towards _rougher_ sex. Stiles smirked and leaned forward, crushing his lips against Derek’s. He pulled back, staring intently at him, letting Derek decide if it was going any further. 

Derek paused and rehashed all the mental talks he’d given himself throughout the day, all the reasons he told himself _explicitly_ not to do this very thing. Despite it all, once he was presented with the real life situation, a warm and eager Stiles standing in front of him trying to seduce him (though really there was no trying, he was outright successful; Derek was hard already), all the arguments flew from his mind and, decision made, he pulled Stiles down for another kiss. He’d deal with the consequences later. For now he needed this. 

Stiles grinned and climbed onto the couch, knees on either side of Derek’s thighs as he straddled him, pressing himself against him. Derek pushed his hands up and under the thin t-shirt Stiles wore. He lifted his arms and Derek pushed the shirt off and threw it across the room. 

Stiles went straight for Derek’s pants, unbuckling the belt, pulling out the bottom of his shirt and going for the zipper. “Always straight to the pants with you,” Derek teased. 

“That’s where all the good parts are,” he whispered into Derek’s ear, sucking the lobe in and biting down. Derek gave a little gasp which turned into a moan when Stiles finally got his hands inside Derek’s pants, wrapping a fist around his hard cock. “See, the good bits.” All Derek could do was nod, head falling back, as Stiles made quick work, remembering exactly how to make him come as quickly as possible. They didn’t always have the luxury of time. But they did now and Derek wanted to savour it.

“Stiles. Stiles” Derek repeated. “Stop.” 

Derek pushed his hands up Stiles’ now still thighs and around to his ass, grabbing on and pulling him closer. “I want to be inside you.” It was Stiles’ turn to groan and his eyes went dark with lust. 

“More good bits” he said seriously. He quickly got up off Derek’s lap and darted into the bedroom, returning with lube and a condom. Stiles shucked off his pants and then helped Derek remove his numerous layers of clothes. 

“Buttons, Derek. Always so many buttons,” he said, deftly undoing his shirt. Derek pushed his pants the remaining way off and went to pull off the tie. “Leave the tie” Stiles said, hands pausing on Derek’s bare chest. 

“Kinky bastard,” he said, pulling his shirt off but leaving the tie. 

“Ahh but you love me,” he joked. They both went still at Stiles’ words. It was just a colloquialism, but in this moment, between the two of them, it meant something different. They _had_ loved each other at one time, and while Derek was still certainly in love with Stiles, he wasn’t sure if the feelings were returned or if they could have a future even if they were. 

“Dude, I didn’t -” he backtracked. 

Talk about awkward, both of them standing there naked, Derek with a hand full of lube, having an emotional crisis. They were at an impasse. They needed to have the conversation that that phrase opened up….but it happened to come up at the worst possible time. 

Derek sighed. “Stiles, we should talk.”

“We’re going to do this now!?” he cried incredulously, arms flailing as he pointed out the ridiculousness of the moment. 

“Do you think we can...proceed without it?” Derek asked. Even if they were able to put aside the moment, the whole night would be tinged with this awkwardness. Derek didn’t want his first time with Stiles in a year (and potentially his last time ever) to be awkward. Would be an insult to what they had had together. 

Stiles conceded the point and flopped back down on the couch, fully nude. Derek grabbed a tissue and whipped his hands off and then sat next to him. Neither of them said anything. Derek’s body started to cool down and a chill threatened to come over him. And embarrassment; he was starting to regret his decision to bypass the conversation in favour of sex. He pulled the wooly blanket off the back of the couch and laid it across them both. 

“Do you still love me?” Stiles asked suddenly. 

Derek looked at him. “Of course. I never stopped,” he said quietly. 

“Good. And I still love you,” Stiles said back, but there was a bite to his tone. “But you really hurt me. Why’d you have to break up with me? And on that day too. Kind of an asshole move.”

Derek agreed that breaking up with him the night of his mom’s victory was probably not the coolest thing to do. “I didn’t plan on it. It just happened.”

“I thought you were going to come back, say you’d changed your mind.”

“I thought I would too. Almost did.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because it was the right thing to do.”

“Why!?”

“Stiles…” he paused. Despite all the arguments they’d had before the breakup he’d never really said the real reason out loud. He was never one to overshare his feelings; it was part of his walls, always private. “I need you to care about the world.”

“I do care.” Stiles said indignantly. 

It was now or never. If he wanted Stiles to change, the least Derek could do was put in the effort to push past his own comfort levels, to express what he was really thinking regardless of how uncomfortable it made him. “No you don’t. You have all these options available to you, you could do anything, you could make a huge impact on the world. People listen when you talk. You’re smart, creative, talented yet you don’t focus those gifts into anything productive. Sure you show up and play nice for public events, but you don’t really care about the meaning behind those events. Or the people whose lives are affected every day by the decisions made in this house. You just kinda cruise through life never really thinking about the change you could bring about in the world. You’re not passionate about anything of consequence. And I need you to be. I love working here, I love politics, I love being part of something that can change the world. But I’m only on the sidelines, you, _you_ are right at the heart of it. You have so much potential and…..and I want you to seize it. Own it. Grow into the man you’re supposed to be,” he said passionately. 

Stiles was silent for a few minutes. Derek wasn’t sure how he would react. “I think thats the longest you’ve ever talked in one go,” he said finally. Derek gave a sad smile, but didn’t say anything more. 

“How do I know what _kind_ of man I’m supposed to be. How do you?” he asked with some indignation behind it. 

“I don’t. I guess I just want to see you at least try.” Derek shrugged. He’d grown up without a father so he was not the person to be telling someone what kind of man they should be; he’d stumbled and tripped into who he was now. The irony did not escape him. He didn’t want it to sound like an ultimatum, but he needed to be with someone who could try and care.

“So that’s it, that’s the reason you broke up with me?”

“Ya.” Derek said, rubbing his face into his palms, pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “And you were young too. I had to grow up fast when my mom died. At 19 I found myself raising Cora. I didn’t have the luxury of dicking around anymore. Maybe you were too young when we got involved. You were looking for some fun...and well I was looking for something more serious, I just didn’t know it at the time.” 

Derek watched as an array of emotions played over Stiles’ face while he processed what Derek said; anger, frustration, confusion. 

“That’s shit Derek,” Stiles chastised. “How can you judge me for the same kind of behaviour you were up to your eyeballs in at that age. We’ve grown up together _Derek_ , I remember you when you were 16. You did dick around….all the time. You skipped school, you got into fights, you were rude to everyone. The shit you and Kate got up to. God, we even thought you were on drugs for a while. Way to be hypocritical. And like maybe I _was_ too young or _you_ were too old and cranky, I dunno. But you had to know that going in.” Stiles stared at him with conviction. 

Derek had to concede he had a point. And guilt immediately surged through him; he’d put too much on Stiles, too many expectations. Truth was, Stiles _was_ young and if Derek got really honest and introspective with himself, he probably would have acted a similar way if the situations had been reversed. Hell it wasn’t an ‘if’, he’d acted like a dick for years and it was a miracle he and Kate didn’t get arrested for some of the things they did. “You were probably less of dick then I was.”

“You think!?” Stiles snapped back, but some of the anger gone from his voice. “I at least knew how to behave in public and not play with matches. We cannot say the same for you.”

No, no they most certainly could not. Derek sighed and pushed his palms into his eyes again, choosing the discomfort over having to look Stiles in the eye. “I just don’t want you to be a fuckup like me,” he whispered. Stiles reached out and placed a gentle hand on Derek’s arm, “Derek.” “I needed one hell of a catalyst to get me back on track. I just didn’t want … y’know,” Derek confessed, remembering his mother and the pain and guilt that always came along with those memories. Stiles remained quiet. “Ya, I get it...I think. But I’m not you. And you’re not my big brother, you’re my boyfriend,” he said and Derek chose not to think too much about his use of the present tense. “And what if my priorities have changed?” he asked calmly. 

“I’m not the same kid I was a year ago. I want different things now. I’d like you to be a part of those things, but I’m not going to try and convince you I’ve changed or that you should get back together with me. I need you to have faith in me. I need you to relax a bit, I _am_ young and I didn’t have the experiences you did, but I’d like to think I’m not horrible -”

“Stiles, you’re not -” Derek interrupted. 

Stiles held up his hand. “Let me finish. Like, I’m going to make mistakes. And maybe I needed to dick around for a while. It’s kind of intimidating having the mother I have; like how am I ever going to amount to anything as remarkable as what she’s done. So it’s like why even try? But I’ve changed. Ask Cora; ask Scott. I’m trying to figure out who I am. And I heard you the last time we argued, where you said I didn’t even care to know where Haiti was on the map….and that bothered me.”

“Sorry,” Derek said, eyes cast downward. He had said some really hurtful things to Stiles back then. A lot of which he regretted. He’d lashed out. 

“It was. But it was also kinda true. I need to figure out what I want to do with my life. I don’t have answers for you or even a plan, I only have the assurance that I’m trying. Is that enough for you?”

Oddly enough, it wasn’t a hard decision for Derek at all. It wasn’t a guarantee, but in Stiles even being open to the discussion, of hearing what Derek had to say, of him even looking at his own future, the answer was simple: “Yes. It is.” 

“And can you like relax a bit, chill, have fun. We’re not 90 yet - hell you’re not even 30, let’ s live like we’re young. Can you try to do that?” he finished, leaving the ball in Derek’s court. Derek wasn’t sure when the conversation turned from Stiles proving he was more mature to Stiles being the one deciding whether to take Derek back. Derek had been under the apparent misconception that he had that choice. 

He could do that. It would be difficult, even during his dick phase he wasn’t a super fun guy; wild yes, but not necessarily fun. Or relaxed. But if Stiles was willing to try to meet him in the middle, he would try as well. “Yes. I can do that.”

“Oh thank god,” Stiles said, shoulders sighing in relief. “That was too much heart-to-heart. Can we get back to the sex now?”

No sooner had Derek laughed and said yes than Stiles was back on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, capturing his lips in a kiss. 

“By the way, I totally know where Haiti is.”

“Shut up,” Derek said. 

The heaviness of their discussion had not done anything good for the mood, but _that_ had never been an area they had trouble in. Stiles whispered dirty things into Derek’s ear and went immediately back to Derek’s cock, knowing just how to touch him to make him hard again. 

“Mmm, there he is,” he whispered, feeling the swell of Derek in his hand. 

Derek reached for the previously abandoned bottle of lube and put a generous amount on his fingers. He warmed the gel up before reaching behind Stiles and pressing a finger against his hole. 

Stiles breathing hitched and he let out a small moan into Derek’s ear, fingers gripping into his shoulders as Derek spread him open slowly. Derek worked quickly, inserting another finger when he thought Stiles could take it. 

“Faster, Derek,” he whined. 

Derek gave a little growl, his mouth seeking out Stiles’. 

Stiles started moving around Derek’s fingers, helping things along. Derek heard the sound of a package opening and then the feel of Stiles’ fingers as he put the condom on him. Apparently no longer willing to wait, Stiles pulled himself off Derek’s fingers and positioned himself over Derek’s dick, sinking down slowly to take him in. 

Derek bit his lip; it felt so good, Stiles felt so good. Perfect. He’d almost forgotten. He waited while Stiles adjusted to the feeling, allowing him time to get comfortable. Derek moaned when Stiles started rolling his hips around, “Fuck, Stiles.”

“Yes please,” he said, keeping up the pattern. He squeezed his muscles around Derek and Derek almost came. He grabbed Stiles’ hips and pulled him up a bit, changing the direction. Stiles got the hint and lifted himself and plunged back down onto Derek’s cock. Derek pushed one hand through Stiles’ hair, fulfilling a fantasy from the day before. He grabbed a handful, feeling the soft strands move through his fingers. “I like your hair like this,” he mumbled. With the other hand he slowly stroked Stiles’ cock which lay between them, poking Derek in the stomach. They settled into a slow, comfortable rhythm, taking their sweet time. Derek briefly thought that _this_ would be the moment there would be a crisis in the world and he’d get called away. 

“Pluie,” Stiles said randomly.

“What?”

“Pluie. That’s the name of the wolf I had to sit and learn about for three hours this afternoon.”

Derek paused while his brain tried to put two-and-two together; Stiles was always able to keep up a conversation during sex, he talked nonstop all the time, why would this situation be any different? The only time he ever shut up was when Derek’s cock was in his mouth, but even then he managed to find a way to communicate. Derek had never figured out that trick; he was criminally single-minded when it came to sex. 

“What?” he repeated, this time actually trying to focus. Derek was buried deep within Stiles, so that wasn’t likely to happen.

“Big Block of Cheese Day.”

Suddenly it all clicked and Derek burst out laughing. “Oh my god, the Wolf Highway people! I forgot about that.” 

“Could have warned me, Hale.”

“This was more fun,” he teased. “It’s even funnier knowing what your thesis topic is.”

Stiles pressed down and flexed the muscles in his ass, causing Derek to moan loudly. “You owe me for that.” 

Derek tried to string words together. “If this is your idea of payback, you really suck at it”, he pointed out. 

“You’re right. You do the work,” Stiles ordered, going still on Derek’s lap. 

Lust coursed through Derek, he loved it when Stiles ordered him around and took control in the bedroom, though he’d never confess it out loud. Stiles had pointed out on numerous occasions how easy he was to read, so he probably knew it anyways. They had a give-and-take sorta thing. 

He took it as a challenge and moved to stand, lifting Stiles off his lap and off his dick in one motion; they both moaned. Derek grabbed Stiles’ head and kissed him, bruising lips and clanging teeth; his tongue mimicking what he’d just been doing with his dick in his ass. He walked them back towards the bedroom and all but pushed Stiles down on the bed. Stiles grinned. “Good. make it up to me,” he said spreading his thighs. 

Derek stood next to the bed and pulled Stiles closer, hand on his own dick and lining himself up. With one solid, aggressive push, he thrust fully back into him. Stiles moaned and his back arched up off the bed. “God I’ve missed you. Missed this,” he said. And Derek echoed the same thing; he felt like he was home.


	5. Chapter 5

Derek groaned as the alarm clock blared loudly into the room; he swung his arm out from under the sheets trying to shut the annoying noise off. His arm flailed around for a second, unable to find his side table before he promptly smacked someone else in the face. _Oh crap_ he thought to himself. In that morning haze, he’d forgotten where he was. 

Stiles let out a frustrated grunt, sat up, and turned the alarm off. “Thanks for that,” he said teasingly, voice still laden with sleep. 

“smrroffa” Derek mumbled, face buried in the pillow. He was trying to cling to the last moments of sleep before the start of another long day...and before he really had to deal with the decisions he made last night, though he was waking up happy for the first time in months. He was vaguely aware of the bed moving as Stiles got out of it only to return a few minutes later. 

“Wake up SleepyWolf,” Stiles said, poking him in the shoulder. Derek smiled into the pillow, the nickname like a cup of tea, warming him. It was one of many variations of the original SourWolf nickname Stiles had given him years ago. When he’d asked _why_ the name, Stiles had given a variety of ridiculous reasons, from his nasty emotional state to the way that Stiles joked he was a predator for seducing him so young. He’d likely never get a real answer - there probably wasn’t one anyways, but he liked it regardless. 

“Is your mom still the President?” he mumbled

“Yes”

“Uggggg” he whined, pulling the sheets over his head. 

“Oh no, none of this.” Stiles warned before pulling the sheets completely off Derek, leaving him bare naked to the cold air. 

“Stiles!” he growled, but didn’t move. 

“Look at me, being the responsible one here. _You_ have a job to do. Though, I am admiring the view, so if you just keep lying there I’m quickly going to stop forcing you to get up….at least in that way,” Stiles teased.

Derek wiggled his naked butt a little bit, which earned him a loving smack on the area. Stiles moved his hands to Derek’s back, tracing the large spiral tattoo, “this is new” he said. 

“I got it a few months ago.” Derek said, enjoying the way Stiles fingers gently followed the circular lines of the design. “Do you like it?” he asked hesitantly. He’d gotten it as a way for him to pay homage to his mother as she’d had the exact same tattoo on her back - albeit smaller and more delicate somehow. Derek had always loved the design, felt it radiated a cyclical earth-based power that was uniquely his mother. He’d been thinking about getting it for a few years, and he’d finally had the money to do so a few months ago. 

“Yes,” Stiles said simply replacing his fingers with his mouth, placing an open-mouthed kiss on the center of the spirals. “What’s it mean?” 

Derek squirmed a bit, distracted by Stiles’ mouth, which was now kissing a trail down his spine, “I’m not actually sure,” he confessed. Stiles sat up abruptly, “dude, seriously? You tattooed a weird symbol on your body without even googling what it means?!” 

Derek turned over slightly to look at him, laughing a bit. “What’s the big deal?” 

“It could be some sort of voodoo curse symbol or attract zombies or something!” Stiles said, arms flailing. Derek just laughed, that was ridiculous. 

“It was my mother’s.” he confessed. 

“Oh,” Stiles said awkwardly, “well….she was never eaten by a zombie so you’re probably alright then.”

“Thanks” Derek said sarcastically. 

“Aside from any ancient curses, I like it. Tattoos are hot.” he said and Derek hated himself for wondering if _Jeremy_ had any tattoos. That was another conversation they’d have to have. 

“Why don’t you have one then” 

“Tattoos are hot on other people. And why should I mar this beautiful alabaster skin,” he said ridiculously. Derek gave him a look, eyes focusing on the rather large hickey he’d made on Stiles’ clavicle. “Well that’s different” he said, realizing where Derek was looking and lightly touching the mark. 

“Any more surprises I should know about” he said, his attention returning to Derek’s body, giving him a full scan with his eyes. 

“I think you got a pretty good look last night” 

“Mmmm, I did.” Stiles said wickedly. He turned suddenly and leaned over to the night stand. 

“Here” he said, pushing a cup of coffee at him. “You have stuff to do. Can’t stay here debauching me all day.” Derek sat up and leaned against the headboard taking a deep sip of the coffee. Perfect. The right amount of cream to coffee ratio. He glanced at the clock, 5:17. Stiles had set the alarm...and for the right time. He was both shocked and thankful; he’d completely forgotten about it the night before, he hadn’t even planned on staying over but he’d been so relaxed and he was _so_ exhausted, he must have nodded off pretty quickly. Stiles having the foresight to set it for him was kind, but that wasn’t what surprised him. It was a small gesture that showed he cared about Derek’s love for his job and that maybe he was changing. 

“You set the alarm,” he said obviously. 

Stiles looked sheepish but shrugged his comment off, “ya, you fell asleep really quickly and I didn’t need to you be angry with me about something else.”

“I’m not angry with you” Derek said and this time it was Stiles’ turn to give him a look. “Well I guess I am - or was - maybe a bit”

“But not anymore right? Like you said everything last night….and we’re good?” Stiles hedged. 

“Ya. We’re good.” 

“And we’re ‘officially’ back together?” he inquired. It wasn’t like him to be so coy about stuff. 

“If you want to be…..”

“I do. Do you?”

“Yes.”

“K. Good. We’re back together then.” Stiles said, a note of finality in voice. “We should tell Mom the same day Scott asks her for gran’s ring. It’ll either steal the thunder or overload her brain. Either way….sounds fun.” Stiles joked. 

“More assholey than fun. Besides, I think she already knows.”

“She got camera’s in here?” Stiles said sarcastically, spinning his head around the room looking for cameras. “Cause she’s going to haaattee you if she _saw_ what you did to me.”

Derek chuckled, he always had a flair for the dramatic. Though he had a point, Melissa would not like him if she knew what he’d done to her son. Last night was pretty vanilla compared to some of the stuff they’d experimented with. 

“I mean, I think she knows we used to be a thing so her finding out we’re back together won’t be that big of a shock.” he said, giving Stiles a push with his foot. 

“Hmm, probably.”

He conceded. “Derek…..”

“Yes….” he replied hesitantly. 

“Last night, you said you were on the sidelines….you don’t have to be. As much as you say _I_ don’t know my own potential, neither do you. Have you given any thought to what you want to do after my Mom’s term is up? There’s no rule saying you have to stay in the job you have, why not move into a more participatory position,” Stiles suggested. “And I have it on good authority that someone is going on maternity leave soon in the Chief of Staff’s office.”

“Everyone knows Molly is going on mat-leave. She’s having twins.” Derek said. 

“Well, okay, _not_ a secret then.” Stiles said. “You should apply.”

Derek paused, considering the idea. He’d honestly not thought about it before. Maybe.

“Think about it,” Stiles added, leaving the idea with him. “In the meantime, let’s mess with Scott. We could elope, that’ll really upstage the bastard.” 

“I think that might be a little fast. And its barely legal yet.” he countered. 

Stiles gave a psht gesture with his hand, “Mom will have that settled soon enough.”

“Why do you want to upstage Scott so badly?” Derek asked.

“Oh no reason, I just like messing with him. He’s been so gross about Allison I want to get him back. Seriously, _she_ is more mature about it than he is.” Stiles said honestly. “And I want to show off the hunky piece of ass I just secured for myself” he teased, hand ghosting over Derek’s semihard dick. 

“Well _this_ ‘hunky piece of ass’ needs to go to work, so there will be none of that” he said, giving Stiles his best ‘I’m serious’ face. 

“Yeah yeah. I could persuade you if I wanted to” he said, his face close enough now that he could blow warm air across his, now harder, dick. 

“I’m impervious to such tactics” he stated weakly. 

“Mmhmm. Let’s see about that.” he said and Derek could feel his will collapse as Stiles’ mouth closed around him. 

\-------

Thirty minutes later, Derek was showered, dressed and ready to go to work. The nice thing about sleeping in the Residence was that it was only a five minute walk to work instead of the usual half an hour. He could get used to that….and the semi-naked man as company every night. 

“Would you have dinner with me tonight?” Stiles asked, leaning against the desk eating a muffin. 

“I don’t know what time I’ll be done,” Derek answered, fixing his tie. 

“I’ll wait up….”

“Then yes. I’d love to have dinner with you,” he said tenderly, turning to look at Stiles - hair all askew and pajamas rumpled, glasses slightly crooked. “There will be actual food right, its not just ‘Stiles’ on the menu.”

“Consider it a buffet” he replied saucily, “but yes, there will be _fooood_ ”

“Good. Then its a date.” he said, “I’ll see you later then.” 

He placed a light kiss on Stiles before he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him, much like he had done all those months ago. But this time instead of despair there was hope. He didn’t know if he and Stiles could work through everything or even make a serious go of a future, but Derek knew he had to at least try.


End file.
